


probably destined

by captaincastello



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crushes, Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-24 12:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaincastello/pseuds/captaincastello
Summary: Markus thought it sorta cute that he and this really handsome classmate of his had the same bag, like a couples thing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Tiếng Việt available: [[vietnamese translation] probably destined](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008285) by [eliseharmony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliseharmony/pseuds/eliseharmony)



> as promised, here's some markus+simon fluff <3 <3
> 
> also translated in [ Spanish](https://my.w.tt/g5ceA15I5N) by [ santastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/santastic/pseuds/santastic)! :D

It was an honest mistake.

An honest, terrible, mistake.

A few weeks ago, Markus had found it kind of cute, in a _it-was-destined_ sort of way, that he and this really gorgeous blond guy sitting on the third row to his left during Arts Appreciation class had the same kind of backpack as he did; like a couples thing, same model, same color design and all.

They had been strangers then, but the backpack provided him a lame excuse for conversation. Now he doesn’t ever regret that, and earning Simon’s name and friendship.

But maybe he does now.

While waiting for his bus ride back to his apartment, he feels his stomach drop into a bottomless abyss as he probes the backpack’s contents for his wallet. It isn’t there. Neither are any of his notebooks and pens, nor his keys and earphones. Nor the sketchpad he brings with him. The one he filled with sketches of people and landscapes, and Simon. Okay, mostly Simon. Some with hearts on them.

This is definitely a code red situation.

Markus is so dead.

Heart raging in a wild dance inside his ribcage, he thinks of the moment he might’ve lost his bag—it was definitely after last period—the professor had asked them to place all their belongings in a corner of the room for some group activity, and when the class finally ended, he remembers looking for his bag, Simon also coming over for his—then North and Josh coming up to ask him about their presentation in Sociology for Monday, while another classmate cornered Simon. But of course, the entire class population was pooled into that corner of the room, excited to get their things and head on home for the weekend, or hurry for their next class two buildings away. It had to be then.

Suddenly, his phone rings inside his pocket—bless that he at least kept it on him—and his stomach sinks even lower when he sees Simon’s name glaring at him from the screen. He swallows.

 _Time to face the music_ , he thinks with a nervous shudder.

“Hey, Si,” He says, and he can’t help but stutter his crush’s name.

“Markus? Are you still on campus?” Simon’s voice comes in with a tone Markus just can’t read, making him even more nervous than ever.

“Yeah, I still am,” he replies, sounding much more composed now as he turns and makes his way back into the university gates. “I, uh, I think we got our bags mixed up.”

“Yeah.” Simon lets out a shaky laugh, and Markus wonders how he should translate that. “I’m here at the Uni Café, I was about to have a snack before going home.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there in five,” Markus says. Hopefully Simon was only looking for his wallet and nothing else in his bag. Maybe his secret is still safe and there’s no need to salvage this friendship because nothing will happen at all to jeopardize it. Hopefully.

“Great,” Simon replies. There’s a tiny pause in which Markus thinks might’ve been the cue for him to hang up, but then, Simon continues, in a voice that Markus can now undeniably decipher: “And maybe, if you want to, uhh, that is—do you want to have dinner together?”

Markus freezes in his tracks. Weird, to say _freeze_ , when he’s getting warm all over.

Possibly ages have passed, while he is suspended in cloud nine, because the next thing he hears is an even more nervous: “Uh, Markus? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” he says, exclaims, almost too immediately, too eagerly. “Yes, I mean, I want to. Have dinner. With you.”

He’s Mr. Incoherent right now, but that’s probably a side effect of an intense blast of euphoria. And butterflies. He’s so happy he birthed butterflies in his stomach, which rose from its decent into an abyss.

Maybe this mix-up was also one of those _it-was-destined_ kind of things.

Simon lets out a nervous chuckle. It sounds like wind chimes in Markus’ ears. Magical, ethereal.

“Great,” he says, obviously reflecting all the emotions swirling in Markus’ bloodstream. Happiness can be so contagious. “Don’t make me wait.”

“I won’t be long,” Markus replies, feeling the spring in his steps, the lightness in his stride. Suddenly the world looks different—well, the same, but completely not. The sky is awash in afternoon watercolors, coating all things in mystic warmth; all earthly hues bursting with vibrant vividness, even the crisp autumn wind seems to be singing, celebrating his newfound bliss.

Now he understands what people mean by ‘walking on sunshine’.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few minutes earlier, in a café within campus...

 

When Simon puts the sketchpad down, his face feels like a chain of exploding stars. From his peripheral vision, he vaguely sees one of the Uni Café employees shake his head and say _Go home, man, you look like you’ll pass out from the fever,_ but right now nothing could take him off his seat, or really he just couldn’t, not with his knees turned to jelly.

It’s not a new feeling entirely—he’s been in a semi-constant state of being emotionally compromised on a daily basis ever since Markus happened in his life, but right now he’s definitely short-circuiting.

He at least still has the presence of mind to deduce that this was no accident.

He fishes his phone out and quickly sends a message over with an attached photo of the open bag, Markus’ sketchbook poking out a bit from the opening.

 

**SIMON:**

_Did you guys have anything to do with this?_

 

The reply was immediate. The perpetrators have obviously been waiting.

 

**NORTH:**

_Just have this, Si. Thank us later xoxo_

**JOSH:**

_Have fun, but not too much fun_

_It’s a school night ;)_

 

Simon blushes real hard. What’s _too much fun_?? He’s still so shaken—in the most absolute best way—by his recent findings, and he hasn’t really thought about what’s next. Is there any way to deal with intense euphoria? He can’t even think straight—

“Sir, I’m really sorry, but these seats are reserved for customers only… “ Simon looks up and sees one of the employees clad in a grey and orange uniform and standard black apron. She has a tired yet friendly look on her face, and he realizes that she’s probably a working student and feels instantly embarrassed for placing her in this position. “I’m here to ask if you might need some assistance in ordering something? You look like you might have a fever.”

“Oh, sorry,” Simon says quickly, even more embarrassed than he thought possible. “I, uh, I left my wallet in class—I’m just so scatterbrained today—and I, uh, I’m texting a friend to bring it over, so I’m kind of just, uhm. Waiting.”

“Oh, I see,” she replies, blinking in deep thought. “So, uh, you don’t need anything water, maybe?”

“Oh, no, uh, I’m fine,” Simon stutters. “But thanks.”

As she leaves his table, he starts to remember why he was here in the first place—he was about to buy their best-seller club sandwich as a take out snack, until he found out that what he had on him wasn’t his wallet nor his bag nor his anything. Now what he told her wasn’t an entire lie—he really was thinking of calling Markus immediately after discovering the mix-up, until he decided to check the sketchpad first. And then everything went to high heaven and he lost all ability to think straight.

Practically speaking, he should really get his own bag back, and return Markus’ to him, which means he’d have to face him real soon _and_ discover what could be next. Which he realizes is _exactly_ what _those two_ have planned from the beginning, making him realize how much he loves/hates them so much right now.

He can’t help but break into an even bigger, goofier smile.

 

**SIMON:**

_Shut up._

_Love you guys :)_

_xoxo_

 

He takes a deep breath. He doesn’t even have to scroll any much further to see Markus’ tiny icon on his phone. A small handsome smile in a tiny circle. Mesmerizing dichromatic eyes. Simon swallows down a sigh; it still feels surreal, to find out Markus likes him back, albeit in a really unconventional way.

 _Be brave, Simon_ , he thinks with a warm fuzzy feeling brewing in his stomach.

He presses ‘ _Call’_.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!  
> p.s. yes, North and Josh planned it all after weeks of watching their friends mutually pining for the other <3
> 
> p.p.s. if you enjoyed this, do feel free to check out my other simkus works :)
> 
>  
> 
> [ him, in colors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913737)
> 
>  _Painting is not about replicating the world; it’s about interpreting and improving on it, showing something you see._  
>  _Each time Markus grabs hold of a brush, his every stroke, every application of pressure on the canvas, every flick of his wrist are calculated, precise; yet he doesn’t aim for what’s perfect, but for what’s real._  
>  _And every time he closes his eyes, a loud, irrevocable truth always manifests itself in strong waves, overwhelming his systems—the entirety of a deep blue ocean held captive in a pair of beautiful eyes, the vibrant gold of the sun caught in the crown of rich blond hair—_  
>   
> 
> [ never gone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14938940)
> 
> _Markus blinks twice. He has to, because suddenly he can’t believe his eyes, can’t control the sudden bolt of lightning striking his entire body._  
>  _Outlined in the faint light against the horizon, standing alone among the ruins is the person he had always wanted to see, who for so long remained elusive; out of reach, out of sight, yet never for a moment out of mind._
> 
>    
>  _Simon._


End file.
